


American Chicken

by kinetikatrue



Category: Florida Panthers RPF, Hockey RPF
Genre: Food Kink, Food Porn, Food Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 03:39:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6639895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinetikatrue/pseuds/kinetikatrue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick Bjugstad: breaking Vince Trocheck's sexuality since 2011.</p>
            </blockquote>





	American Chicken

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thehandsoftime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thehandsoftime/gifts).



> You said you'd be interested in the origin of the whole rotisserie chicken thing - hope this take on that works for you!

So, okay, the thing is that Nick Bjugstad - off the ice - seems like he should be pretty boring, just another big, blond guy from Minnesota. He isn’t a big talker or a flashy dresser - he’s maybe a little politer than average, and definitely a bit dorky. But, basically, his love for dangerous animals /should/ be the most interesting thing about him.

Instead, he’s been making Vince reconsider things he’d thought he understood about himself - and the world - the entire time they’ve known each other, starting and ending with that.

The first big thing - at Vince’s first World Junior Evaluation Camp - had been entirely Troubs’ fault, despite him not even being there. Because most unexpected things in Vince’s life back then were Troubs’ fault. And apparently he’s always thought making trouble long-distance is what Skype is for.

Vince doesn’t think Troubs had been /aiming/ for him that time - they’d balanced Jonesy’s laptop on a big enough pile of pillows that Troubs could probably see all the guys piled onto the bed, and, as per usual, his attention hadn’t stayed on any person or thing for long - but somehow the conversation had skipped and turned until something Jonesy said (Vince has never been sure what) made Troubs’ face light up in that way that never meant anything good.

Still, Vince hadn’t been worried when Troubs came out with, ‘Check your shaving kit - I left you a present,’, in that way he has that sounds entirely innocent, unless you know him. After all, he’d been talking to Jonesy.

That didn’t change when Jonesy returned from the bathroom holding a thick eyeliner pencil and making the face everybody who was friends with Troubs became resignedly familiar with all too quickly. Or when he got back in range of his laptop’s camera and turned a hardcore raised eyebrow on Troubs.

Not that it did any good, given Troubs just said brightly, ‘It’s to help you guys bond!’ like of course makeup was the answer to building team cohesion. But, well, it’s Troubs, so he probably actually thought it was.

Jonesy still looked entirely unimpressed.

Troubs arguing ‘It’ll make you guys look badass,’ didn’t do any good, obviously, but as soon as Troubs brought out the puppy dog eyes, Vince knew it was going to be game over, point to Troubs, eventually. None of them was that strong - which, well, that was the danger of Troubs.

Not that Vince had started thinking in terms of danger to anything but his own dignity at that point. There were plenty of guys in eyeliner out there in the world - Vince had seen them in his sisters’ magazines - skinny guys in tight jeans, dark hair falling in their eyes. Not really /girly/, but not exactly, well, manly. Nothing /interesting/ - or dangerous - about them, at least not as far as Vince was concerned. 

He kept thinking that right until Jonesy finished applying eyeliner to his first victim - Nick, unfortunate enough to be sitting next to him - and let the rest of them see. It was a quick, messy job, nothing any girl he knew would go out wearing, and it should have been weird. Or funny. Not the kind of thing that gave Vince entirely unexpected feelings.

And, yet, Nick Bjugstad in eyeliner? Well, it turned out that while Jonesy’s smudgy application might not be badass, it wasn’t actually a bad thing, not by half.

Vince kinda wanted to see it every day - or at least on the regular - and that was enough to make him volunteer to be Jonesy’s next victim, joking it off with a, ‘Try it out on someone it won’t look so dumb on.’ That got the laugh Vince was going for, so he figured, whatever, if Bjugy took it wrong, it wasn’t as though Vince would have to see him again unless they both made the team.

***

They didn’t both make the WJC team, but in the end it didn’t matter, because the Panthers drafted Vince, and they already had Bjugy, and three years later, when Vince got his call-up, he got Bjugy for a tour guide. Of course. But not even Vince's instinctive reaction to Nick managed to make it weird. Oh, they didn't become best best buds immediately or anything, but it wasn't long before they were defaulting to doing things together, one more routine amidst the many that made up their hockey playing lives. And it didn't take much longer than that for Vince to realize that the eyeliner was just the start to a trend of Nick making Vince re-evaluate things.

The most recent thing being rotisserie chicken.

Which, okay, /rotisserie chicken/. Vince hadn’t really thought there was anything to think about it aside from ‘good, that’s my protein taken care of'. And he kept thinking that right up until the evening towards the end of Vince's second season as a pro, when they decided to get it for dinner, make some mac and cheese to go with it, call it a night. Vince had gotten used to feeling low-key attracted to Nick pretty much all the time when he was around him, so that part of the evening isn't new. Which means that when he goes to the bathroom to piss away the beers they've already drunk, he isn't expecting to have his world shifted on its axis when he gets back.

But the expression on Nick's face when Vince walks into the kitchen stops him in his tracks, because that isn't just an /I'm eating something really good/ face; there's something animal, almost sexual, about the way Nick's looking at the chicken, particularly combined with the way he's digging his fingers in at the joints - that kinda makes Vince want that to be him. 

That is, right up until Nick pulls one hand away and brings it up to his mouth - and starts licking, working his tongue between his fingers like he's eating himself out. When that slides into sucking, Vince knows for sure: he wants Nick to lick and suck him like that, but he wants to be the one doing the licking and sucking to Nick, too. And if he can't have that, he at least wants to be close enough to the action to store away some high quality memories against future need.

It's maybe a dumb idea, but then, dumb ideas are his specialty, so of course he steps further into the kitchen almost before he's had the thought.

And apparently that's enough to get Nick's attention; he's turning toward the doorway, hands still covered in chicken juices, before Vince even manages to take a second step into the room. Vince can see his face closing down, caution replacing lust as he confirms that, yes, Vince has just walked in on him being excessively into rotisserie chicken. But then he stills, staring intently at Vince, because, Vince guesses, /he/ wasn't quick enough to hide how watching was making him feel. And, well, even though it's habit to keep that shit under wraps, in this moment, in the face of Nick's uncertainty, he feels brave enough to just let it all show, let Nick see exactly how unexpectedly into it he is. If Nick's weirded out, they can probably agree on a pact of mutual destruction.

The moment stretches, then, Nick watching him, while Vince watches him back, assessing each other in turn.

But then he smiles and holds out a hand towards Vince, fingers still sheened with chicken juice, and it's clear from the expression on his face what he's inviting Vince to do. Vince doesn't need a second invitation. He takes a second step into the kitchen, and then another, and another, until he's standing close enough to touch Nick. And then he leans forward and sucks three of Nick's fingers into his mouth. It /is/ odd, combining the usual fulness of sucking on someone else's fingers, with flavors that have never before come anywhere near sex for him, but he came into the experience expecting to enjoy it, and he quickly finds he was right, that the two pleasures add to each other, and are both made even better by how much Nick likes it all.

There's salt, and meatiness, and beneath it the slight tang of Nick's skin, and it's perfect, good in a way that licking your own fingers never achieves. 

And then Nick is tearing a strip of meat off the chicken breast and putting it in his own mouth, then holding out his hand for Vince to lick again. Vince mirrors him, chewing and swallowing, and then they're performing what Vince suspects is a never before attempted version of 69ing, flavors and sensations looping back on each other. It's probably the weirdest thing Vince has ever done sex-wise, but, fuck, it's doing it for him. Looking up at Nick - all six plus stupidly tall feet of him - confirms that, yep, Nick's right there with him. 

When Nick's fingers start tasting of nothing but finger and saliva, Vince lets them go with an obscene, wet pop, just as Nick does the same with his - seeing the chicken just sitting there, barely touched, well, he can't help but say, 'Fuck, there's still most of the chicken left...'

And Nick grins, just as predatorily as before, and says, 'But what a way to go, right?'

And, well, all Vince can do is nod, because he's not wrong - he never would've come up with this on his own, but as he always is these days, he's glad Nick has made him reconsider the way he sees rotisserie chicken, though he has to ask, 'Got anything else up your sleeve, first?'

Nick shrugs and says, 'Dunno. Guess you'll have to figure it out yourself.'

Vince nods - he's down for that, and for having a secret thing to tease Nick about in public; who'd ever suspect rotisserie chicken of meaning anything else?

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Apologies to anybody who ended up reading the version with the bit missing at the end. I'm not entirely sure what happened there, but that's what I get for trying to futz after the deadline. 8(


End file.
